![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
masserectSummary: Shepard stops by the Afterlife to give Aria a report on the situation with Archangel. Written in response to a request for Aria and Shepard as fuckbuddies.
Length: 3000 words
Rating: M
Notes: First part in a series.
He shows up in civilian clothes and greets her with a lazy wave. Cheeky, that - and it gets him more than just a few glares from Aria's underlings.
The gesture she makes to send her retinue packing is smaller, but better received. Shepard throws himself down on the couch, even as the last sullen mercs shuffle down the stairs.
"How did it go?"
She already knows the big picture, but the attack on Archangel was a clusterfuck with few survivors and fewer recordings, and the fine details have eluded even her.
"Mission accomplished," he says, and pries the top button on his jacket open. "Turns out Archangel is an old friend." A pause, and a little less enthusiastically: "He's pretty fucked up. A lot happened in two years."
"It always does in that line of work." She, if anyone, should know. But it doesn't bother her any more; it's just a fact of life, and her voice betrays no emotion.
"Yeah." Another pause, and then his good mood seems to return. "I had to shoot down a gunship to get him out of there. Pretty sore after that. Mind being on top today?"
She smirks. "You do realize who you are talking to?"
He grins back. "Sure thing, your majesty."
Still grinning, he leans in and puts a hand on her knee. She likes his hands - big and strong for a human, heavy and solid.
"Tell me more," she orders as she shrugs out of her jacket and begins to reach for the straps on the outfit underneath.
"Let me," he says, and she shrugs, letting her hands fall. And if he's sore, he certainly doesn't show it as he grabs her around the waist and lifts her onto his lap.
She likes his lap as well. Nice, thick, strong muscles. She spreads her legs and straddles his thighs, pressing her back against his broad chest. His fingers dig in a little harder in response, before going to work on the straps.
"Getting in was simple. Mercs were too busy getting their shit ruined to think too hard about it." Pretty soon he manages to peel the top half of the suit off her, leaving her bare-chested. He slides his hands around her waist and up her belly, across the ribs and stops to knead her breasts with his rough, callused fingers. Her nipples stiffen quickly under his touch, and she allows herself a grin as she feels something else stiffening as well, poking up against her ass.
"My buddy was holed up in this abandoned building across a bridge. The mercs planned to send us over as a distraction. 'Course, that plan went to hell when we started throwing their guys over the sides and ran for cover on the other side." He slides his hands down again, easing a finger in under the waistline of her suit, but the position and the garment's snug fit do not make it easy. He pulls back and begins to work on the buttons over her right hip, while his left hand slides down between her legs and starts to stroke her slowly through her pants.
"Archangel and I were pretty happy to see each other again, but the mercs weren't happy at all and started throwing everything they had at us."
Aria closes her eyes and rocks her hips gently against the stroking fingers in front and the hard bulge behind her. "I assume that went poorly."
Shepard laughs behind her, a short bark that bounces her where she sits. "Archangel had been holding that bridge alone for hours." She feels cool air on her right hip, and he shifts his grasp, left hand sliding up to the other side, the right taking its place between her thighs, a little rougher than before. She hums, pleased at this new development.
"It was a meat grinder. Stupid fucking rookie troops and Loki mechs." The buttons on the left side yield as well, but rather than let her up so he can get the outfit off her, he continues to rub her through the synthetic stretch fibre, up and down, just one thick, rough finger.
"Then someone remembered that they had heavy mechs."
He pauses, his finger stopping as well. Aria catches herself holding her breath.
"Unfortunately for them, I found out where they kept them and crossed a few wires before we went over the bridge."
His finger begins to move again, harder. She grinds back against him in turn. She's not sure why he'd subject himself to this, keeping his cock trapped under the confines of his clothes. Probably hurts quite a bit, especially the way she's riding it. Still, he shows no sign of that as he continues. His left hand slides down her thigh, fingers curling down around the inside, teasing the sensitive skin. It's beginning to feel frizzy and electric. Damn human certainly is good with his hands, she has to give him that.
"Big-ass Ymir mech. By the time they realized it was out of control, it had stomped over half the Eclipse troops. Took out the other half when it blew up. Apparently this guy in charge, Jaroth, takes it personally, so he comes out shooting and Gar- Archangel puts a bullet in his head. Bang." He pinches her clit through the cloth, suddenly, just as he barks the last word into her ear, and she stiffens and gasps before shoving back against his chest, frowning. Good with his hands, and too damn cocky. She likes it in some ways, but it's difficult to break old habits, and she has to struggle with the impulse to warp him into a fine red mist when he makes her lose control like this.
Shepard just continues as though nothing had happened, rubbing her cunt through her pants.
"While we were taking care of the Eclipse, the Blood Pack had been busting through the tunnels under the building. Archangel had sealed most of the doors, but the vorcha are pretty good at dismantling shit and krogan don't need to open doors before they walk through them."
His left hand rises again, over her thigh and hip and stomach until it reaches her breasts, and he captures one dark nipple between thumb and forefinger and tugs at it, pinching it the way he did her clit, and it's almost enough to set her off right then and there. She arches her back, shoulders digging into his chest, and slips her hands in behind her, unzipping his pants and freeing him from their constraints. Shepard grunts appreciatively, and uses his hand between her legs to pull her tighter against him, the length of his cock digging into the cleft of her ass. She works her muscles against him and licks her lips, her mental images of the battle fading for a few moment, giving way to thoughts of what she's going to do to him later on.
"And then?" she asks, her voice showing only the tiniest bit of strain - certainly nothing that will be noticeable over the pounding music in the background.
"We split up. I left one of my team above, with Archangel." The finger between her legs stops, but the hand on her breasts tightens, kneading the supple mounds roughly. "I went below." And his right hand starts to move again, now concentrating on her clit, rubbing in quick circles, while the left lies motionless. "And started closing the emergency shutters Archangel hadn't gotten to." The circles slow, and the hand on her chest resumes its rough massage. "They weren't expecting resistance at the shutters, so we didn't have to work too hard, but while I was doing that, their leader managed to get in and cornered Archangel on the second floor."
"Hard work," she manages, her jaw clenching, her head feeling light and her ears pounding both with the bass and her own heartbeat. "Killing vorcha and krogan."
"Hard work," he agrees, and emphasizes the word with a hard push of the finger on her cunt, making her twitch. "We got back just as he was going up the stairs, but he wasn't alone, so we had to fight off a bunch of vorcha and varren. By the time we dealt with them, Garm had found Archangel's room and pinned him down."
Then he stops. "Quit holding back."
The next thing she feels is a slap between her thighs, sending a shock all the way up through her body and making stars burst before her eyes. Gasping, she tries to regain her composure, her legs pressing hard together around his hand, but he holds her firmly around the waist and grabs her cunt firmly, pinching the outer lips together around her clit and uses that grip to stroke its entire length. Her head slams back against his shoulder, and Aria bites her lip, riding out the orgasm in silence, just rocking her hips as best she can against the iron grip below, each movement shifting her flesh around her clit and re-sparking the climax, drawing it out further and further.
Once she lies limp, Shepard lets go and brings his hand up, his fingers coated with slick that has soaked through her clothes, and she should be pissed at him for that, but she can't really muster the effort.
He licks his fingers clean, and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, simply continues.
"Garm was tough. You could see him taking bullets and just healing right up, so I grabbed one of the flame throwers his vorcha had brought. Never want to get that close to a murderous burning krogan for the rest of my life, but it worked. Eventually."
She hears him sucking his fingers, and hum behind her, the sound echoing in his chest. "Fuck, I want a better taste of this."
"I have another use for your tongue," she manages, still dazed, but he just chuckles.
"You think you're in any condition to stop me?"
If she has to, she is. And a threat, no matter how... benign it may be, gets the adrenaline flowing. She glares over her shoulder and raps her knuckles on his forehead, hard.
"Try it, and you won't have a tongue."
She swings herself off his lap and strips, ridding herself of the leggings and her boots. Shepard's shirt is open and his pants unzipped; she helps him tug them off before taking her seat again, but this time facing the other direction. She meets his gaze and wraps her right hand around his cock, tightly, until she can feel his pulse under her palm - strong, regular and surprisingly slow.
Without comment, she begins to stroke, slowly.
"Tell me about the Blue Suns."
He groans, gaze flitting down to her hand, up to her eyes and back down again, but he clears his throat and begins to tell the last part of his tale.
"Tarak." His voice is low and harsh, almost a growl. "I think that's what he called himself. Blue Suns bigshot." His shoulders dig into the upholstering as he leans back. She's not sure if it's to give her more room or get a better view, and concludes that it's probably both.
As before, she is only half paying attention to what he says, but files everything away in her head. Unlikely that any of it is important, but one only stays on top of a place like this by knowing, at the very least, everything. She's more interested in what she sees in front of her, not just his cock but his entire body, stretched out on her couch. The Commander is certainly no slouch, and Aria quite approves of the corded muscles under his battle-scarred hide.
"Tarak was the one with the gunship. Archangel winged it before we got there. I killed the guy repairing it. Wasn't enough." His gaze is locked on the slender, dark blue fingers wrapped around his shaft. "He got it running, started unloading troops on the roof. Rappelling down the sides, getting in through the windows - fuck." His cock twitches in her unyielding grasp. A bead of cloudy white fluid rolls down her hand, and she realizes that she's licking her lips at the sight.
"While we're killing them, Tarak starts shooting. Cannons are bad enough. Damn near folds the building in half with the missiles." Muscles ripple along his arms as he fists his hands. His thighs ripple as well, underneath her. Aria continues on, as though she doesn't notice.
"The gunship's a pretty big target. Tarak goes down in flames, but not before he blows out the room Archangel's in. Devil's own luck, that turian-" His jaw clenches, and he groans, shifting in his seat, hips rising. She moves faster, using the slick fluid dribbling from the tip of his cock to run her thumb over the head, and he growls, growing even thicker and harder under her touch.
"Go on," she says, and stops moving, just squeezing down on his shaft. He grits his teeth, breath hissing between them. Growls, but begins to relax, even as his cock twitches in her grasp.
"We got him out," Shepard continues, his voice strained. "Place was empty. Figure any remaining mercs thought of a career change after Tarak bit it. Grabbed the first car, went back to the ship." She tugs on his cock, fingers sealed right below the crown, feels it straining against her with every movement, but never giving the stimulation he needs. He winces and grunts. "Fuck's sake, you bitch."
She grins. "You can finish your story. Or you can finish this on your own."
He slaps his hands on her hips, fingers digging in painfully. "It's finished, all right? Killed mercs, rescued Archangel, patched him up, done."
Aria continues for a few more moments, as if carefully considering his words. Then she shrugs, loosens her grip and begins to stroke.
Shepard growls deep in his throat and kneads her ass. He wants her to move faster, but he doesn't say it, so she doesn't bother.
Still, even at her current pace, he's close to the edge. All the signs are there, rapid heartbeat and breathing, sweat beading on his skin, his eyes narrowing to slits.
Right there at the edge, she finally does quicken her pace, her sticky fingers making soft wet noises as they pump his thick shaft, noises almost entirely lost under the music in the background.
If he makes any sound as he comes, that, too, is lost in the beat. Tilting his head back, his body rippling underneath her, his cock twitching in her grip as it spurts jets of thick white fluid over her hand and arm, onto her stomach and all the way up to her chest, a few drops even spattering between her tits.
Even as he comes, she changes her pace again, relaxing her grip and making her strokes torturously slow. He gasps, lets out a noise of protest and squeezes her until she thinks she hears her hipbones creaking, but she doesn't let it affect her.
Another spurt, hot liquid coming up to her ribs. Another, on her stomach. And a trickle, running down over his still twitching shaft and her fingers. He keeps twitching long after the fluid runs out, and Aria eventually stops stroking entirely, just sits back and enjoys the sensation of throbbing flesh under her touch.
When, finally, it lies still in her hand, Shepard raises his head again. He peers down, eyes still narrow, and seems to admire the mess as his chest heaves with deep breaths. Then he begins to smear the thick come on her skin, thumbs working over her flat, hard abs, the rest of his fingers still digging into her ass.
Aria lets go of his softening cock, and it smacks against his stomach. He winces at the sensation.
"Remind me why I put up with your shit."
She licks her fingers clean, as if that answers everything. Which, truth to be told, it does.
Then she wipes the back of her hand on his cheek, rough stubble scratching her knuckles.
He growls and picks up his shirt and begins to scrub the sweat and sex from his body.
Aria slides off his lap without further comment and stands back to watch, idly playing with the mess on her stomach and chest, fingertips circling in the slippery fluid. Thinks it's a pity he doesn't seem up for another round, but that's how it is with men.
She remains naked while he stands up, pulls his pants back on and stretches. The dirty shirt still dangles from his hand as he steps up and gives her left tit a brief, rough grope, ending with a firm tug at the nipple that sends a jolt through her chest and down her spine.
"Another time, Aria."
She doesn't answer, and he doesn't wait for it. Just heads for the stairs, hand raised in the same kind of lazy wave he gave her on the way in.
She doesn't bother to watch him go; just sits down again, leans back and crosses her legs as she stares up at the ceiling, at the light from the club playing across it.
A real pity he wasn't up for another round. She can still feel his hand on her chest, his fingers pinching her dark flesh, and it has definitely left her in the mood. Humans! Fucking insufferable species. Interesting, but insufferable.
Still she smiles as she raises a hand to lick the come from her fingertips. She has no doubt he'll try harder to entertain her the next time they meet.
Length: 3000 words
Rating: M
Notes: First part in a series.
From: A (queen@omega.gov)
Sent: September 12, 2185 11:17 UT
To: Yes, THAT Commander Shepard (myfavouritestore@sr2.cerberus.net.ext)
Subject: Re: Passing by
> Your info on Archangel was good. Never got a chance to say thanks before,
> but I'm 90 minutes from Omega. Got room for my ship in your dock?
I'm sure I can find a spot for your little shuttle.
He shows up in civilian clothes and greets her with a lazy wave. Cheeky, that - and it gets him more than just a few glares from Aria's underlings.
The gesture she makes to send her retinue packing is smaller, but better received. Shepard throws himself down on the couch, even as the last sullen mercs shuffle down the stairs.
"How did it go?"
She already knows the big picture, but the attack on Archangel was a clusterfuck with few survivors and fewer recordings, and the fine details have eluded even her.
"Mission accomplished," he says, and pries the top button on his jacket open. "Turns out Archangel is an old friend." A pause, and a little less enthusiastically: "He's pretty fucked up. A lot happened in two years."
"It always does in that line of work." She, if anyone, should know. But it doesn't bother her any more; it's just a fact of life, and her voice betrays no emotion.
"Yeah." Another pause, and then his good mood seems to return. "I had to shoot down a gunship to get him out of there. Pretty sore after that. Mind being on top today?"
She smirks. "You do realize who you are talking to?"
He grins back. "Sure thing, your majesty."
Still grinning, he leans in and puts a hand on her knee. She likes his hands - big and strong for a human, heavy and solid.
"Tell me more," she orders as she shrugs out of her jacket and begins to reach for the straps on the outfit underneath.
"Let me," he says, and she shrugs, letting her hands fall. And if he's sore, he certainly doesn't show it as he grabs her around the waist and lifts her onto his lap.
She likes his lap as well. Nice, thick, strong muscles. She spreads her legs and straddles his thighs, pressing her back against his broad chest. His fingers dig in a little harder in response, before going to work on the straps.
"Getting in was simple. Mercs were too busy getting their shit ruined to think too hard about it." Pretty soon he manages to peel the top half of the suit off her, leaving her bare-chested. He slides his hands around her waist and up her belly, across the ribs and stops to knead her breasts with his rough, callused fingers. Her nipples stiffen quickly under his touch, and she allows herself a grin as she feels something else stiffening as well, poking up against her ass.
"My buddy was holed up in this abandoned building across a bridge. The mercs planned to send us over as a distraction. 'Course, that plan went to hell when we started throwing their guys over the sides and ran for cover on the other side." He slides his hands down again, easing a finger in under the waistline of her suit, but the position and the garment's snug fit do not make it easy. He pulls back and begins to work on the buttons over her right hip, while his left hand slides down between her legs and starts to stroke her slowly through her pants.
"Archangel and I were pretty happy to see each other again, but the mercs weren't happy at all and started throwing everything they had at us."
Aria closes her eyes and rocks her hips gently against the stroking fingers in front and the hard bulge behind her. "I assume that went poorly."
Shepard laughs behind her, a short bark that bounces her where she sits. "Archangel had been holding that bridge alone for hours." She feels cool air on her right hip, and he shifts his grasp, left hand sliding up to the other side, the right taking its place between her thighs, a little rougher than before. She hums, pleased at this new development.
"It was a meat grinder. Stupid fucking rookie troops and Loki mechs." The buttons on the left side yield as well, but rather than let her up so he can get the outfit off her, he continues to rub her through the synthetic stretch fibre, up and down, just one thick, rough finger.
"Then someone remembered that they had heavy mechs."
He pauses, his finger stopping as well. Aria catches herself holding her breath.
"Unfortunately for them, I found out where they kept them and crossed a few wires before we went over the bridge."
His finger begins to move again, harder. She grinds back against him in turn. She's not sure why he'd subject himself to this, keeping his cock trapped under the confines of his clothes. Probably hurts quite a bit, especially the way she's riding it. Still, he shows no sign of that as he continues. His left hand slides down her thigh, fingers curling down around the inside, teasing the sensitive skin. It's beginning to feel frizzy and electric. Damn human certainly is good with his hands, she has to give him that.
"Big-ass Ymir mech. By the time they realized it was out of control, it had stomped over half the Eclipse troops. Took out the other half when it blew up. Apparently this guy in charge, Jaroth, takes it personally, so he comes out shooting and Gar- Archangel puts a bullet in his head. Bang." He pinches her clit through the cloth, suddenly, just as he barks the last word into her ear, and she stiffens and gasps before shoving back against his chest, frowning. Good with his hands, and too damn cocky. She likes it in some ways, but it's difficult to break old habits, and she has to struggle with the impulse to warp him into a fine red mist when he makes her lose control like this.
Shepard just continues as though nothing had happened, rubbing her cunt through her pants.
"While we were taking care of the Eclipse, the Blood Pack had been busting through the tunnels under the building. Archangel had sealed most of the doors, but the vorcha are pretty good at dismantling shit and krogan don't need to open doors before they walk through them."
His left hand rises again, over her thigh and hip and stomach until it reaches her breasts, and he captures one dark nipple between thumb and forefinger and tugs at it, pinching it the way he did her clit, and it's almost enough to set her off right then and there. She arches her back, shoulders digging into his chest, and slips her hands in behind her, unzipping his pants and freeing him from their constraints. Shepard grunts appreciatively, and uses his hand between her legs to pull her tighter against him, the length of his cock digging into the cleft of her ass. She works her muscles against him and licks her lips, her mental images of the battle fading for a few moment, giving way to thoughts of what she's going to do to him later on.
"And then?" she asks, her voice showing only the tiniest bit of strain - certainly nothing that will be noticeable over the pounding music in the background.
"We split up. I left one of my team above, with Archangel." The finger between her legs stops, but the hand on her breasts tightens, kneading the supple mounds roughly. "I went below." And his right hand starts to move again, now concentrating on her clit, rubbing in quick circles, while the left lies motionless. "And started closing the emergency shutters Archangel hadn't gotten to." The circles slow, and the hand on her chest resumes its rough massage. "They weren't expecting resistance at the shutters, so we didn't have to work too hard, but while I was doing that, their leader managed to get in and cornered Archangel on the second floor."
"Hard work," she manages, her jaw clenching, her head feeling light and her ears pounding both with the bass and her own heartbeat. "Killing vorcha and krogan."
"Hard work," he agrees, and emphasizes the word with a hard push of the finger on her cunt, making her twitch. "We got back just as he was going up the stairs, but he wasn't alone, so we had to fight off a bunch of vorcha and varren. By the time we dealt with them, Garm had found Archangel's room and pinned him down."
Then he stops. "Quit holding back."
The next thing she feels is a slap between her thighs, sending a shock all the way up through her body and making stars burst before her eyes. Gasping, she tries to regain her composure, her legs pressing hard together around his hand, but he holds her firmly around the waist and grabs her cunt firmly, pinching the outer lips together around her clit and uses that grip to stroke its entire length. Her head slams back against his shoulder, and Aria bites her lip, riding out the orgasm in silence, just rocking her hips as best she can against the iron grip below, each movement shifting her flesh around her clit and re-sparking the climax, drawing it out further and further.
Once she lies limp, Shepard lets go and brings his hand up, his fingers coated with slick that has soaked through her clothes, and she should be pissed at him for that, but she can't really muster the effort.
He licks his fingers clean, and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, simply continues.
"Garm was tough. You could see him taking bullets and just healing right up, so I grabbed one of the flame throwers his vorcha had brought. Never want to get that close to a murderous burning krogan for the rest of my life, but it worked. Eventually."
She hears him sucking his fingers, and hum behind her, the sound echoing in his chest. "Fuck, I want a better taste of this."
"I have another use for your tongue," she manages, still dazed, but he just chuckles.
"You think you're in any condition to stop me?"
If she has to, she is. And a threat, no matter how... benign it may be, gets the adrenaline flowing. She glares over her shoulder and raps her knuckles on his forehead, hard.
"Try it, and you won't have a tongue."
She swings herself off his lap and strips, ridding herself of the leggings and her boots. Shepard's shirt is open and his pants unzipped; she helps him tug them off before taking her seat again, but this time facing the other direction. She meets his gaze and wraps her right hand around his cock, tightly, until she can feel his pulse under her palm - strong, regular and surprisingly slow.
Without comment, she begins to stroke, slowly.
"Tell me about the Blue Suns."
He groans, gaze flitting down to her hand, up to her eyes and back down again, but he clears his throat and begins to tell the last part of his tale.
"Tarak." His voice is low and harsh, almost a growl. "I think that's what he called himself. Blue Suns bigshot." His shoulders dig into the upholstering as he leans back. She's not sure if it's to give her more room or get a better view, and concludes that it's probably both.
As before, she is only half paying attention to what he says, but files everything away in her head. Unlikely that any of it is important, but one only stays on top of a place like this by knowing, at the very least, everything. She's more interested in what she sees in front of her, not just his cock but his entire body, stretched out on her couch. The Commander is certainly no slouch, and Aria quite approves of the corded muscles under his battle-scarred hide.
"Tarak was the one with the gunship. Archangel winged it before we got there. I killed the guy repairing it. Wasn't enough." His gaze is locked on the slender, dark blue fingers wrapped around his shaft. "He got it running, started unloading troops on the roof. Rappelling down the sides, getting in through the windows - fuck." His cock twitches in her unyielding grasp. A bead of cloudy white fluid rolls down her hand, and she realizes that she's licking her lips at the sight.
"While we're killing them, Tarak starts shooting. Cannons are bad enough. Damn near folds the building in half with the missiles." Muscles ripple along his arms as he fists his hands. His thighs ripple as well, underneath her. Aria continues on, as though she doesn't notice.
"The gunship's a pretty big target. Tarak goes down in flames, but not before he blows out the room Archangel's in. Devil's own luck, that turian-" His jaw clenches, and he groans, shifting in his seat, hips rising. She moves faster, using the slick fluid dribbling from the tip of his cock to run her thumb over the head, and he growls, growing even thicker and harder under her touch.
"Go on," she says, and stops moving, just squeezing down on his shaft. He grits his teeth, breath hissing between them. Growls, but begins to relax, even as his cock twitches in her grasp.
"We got him out," Shepard continues, his voice strained. "Place was empty. Figure any remaining mercs thought of a career change after Tarak bit it. Grabbed the first car, went back to the ship." She tugs on his cock, fingers sealed right below the crown, feels it straining against her with every movement, but never giving the stimulation he needs. He winces and grunts. "Fuck's sake, you bitch."
She grins. "You can finish your story. Or you can finish this on your own."
He slaps his hands on her hips, fingers digging in painfully. "It's finished, all right? Killed mercs, rescued Archangel, patched him up, done."
Aria continues for a few more moments, as if carefully considering his words. Then she shrugs, loosens her grip and begins to stroke.
Shepard growls deep in his throat and kneads her ass. He wants her to move faster, but he doesn't say it, so she doesn't bother.
Still, even at her current pace, he's close to the edge. All the signs are there, rapid heartbeat and breathing, sweat beading on his skin, his eyes narrowing to slits.
Right there at the edge, she finally does quicken her pace, her sticky fingers making soft wet noises as they pump his thick shaft, noises almost entirely lost under the music in the background.
If he makes any sound as he comes, that, too, is lost in the beat. Tilting his head back, his body rippling underneath her, his cock twitching in her grip as it spurts jets of thick white fluid over her hand and arm, onto her stomach and all the way up to her chest, a few drops even spattering between her tits.
Even as he comes, she changes her pace again, relaxing her grip and making her strokes torturously slow. He gasps, lets out a noise of protest and squeezes her until she thinks she hears her hipbones creaking, but she doesn't let it affect her.
Another spurt, hot liquid coming up to her ribs. Another, on her stomach. And a trickle, running down over his still twitching shaft and her fingers. He keeps twitching long after the fluid runs out, and Aria eventually stops stroking entirely, just sits back and enjoys the sensation of throbbing flesh under her touch.
When, finally, it lies still in her hand, Shepard raises his head again. He peers down, eyes still narrow, and seems to admire the mess as his chest heaves with deep breaths. Then he begins to smear the thick come on her skin, thumbs working over her flat, hard abs, the rest of his fingers still digging into her ass.
Aria lets go of his softening cock, and it smacks against his stomach. He winces at the sensation.
"Remind me why I put up with your shit."
She licks her fingers clean, as if that answers everything. Which, truth to be told, it does.
Then she wipes the back of her hand on his cheek, rough stubble scratching her knuckles.
He growls and picks up his shirt and begins to scrub the sweat and sex from his body.
Aria slides off his lap without further comment and stands back to watch, idly playing with the mess on her stomach and chest, fingertips circling in the slippery fluid. Thinks it's a pity he doesn't seem up for another round, but that's how it is with men.
She remains naked while he stands up, pulls his pants back on and stretches. The dirty shirt still dangles from his hand as he steps up and gives her left tit a brief, rough grope, ending with a firm tug at the nipple that sends a jolt through her chest and down her spine.
"Another time, Aria."
She doesn't answer, and he doesn't wait for it. Just heads for the stairs, hand raised in the same kind of lazy wave he gave her on the way in.
She doesn't bother to watch him go; just sits down again, leans back and crosses her legs as she stares up at the ceiling, at the light from the club playing across it.
A real pity he wasn't up for another round. She can still feel his hand on her chest, his fingers pinching her dark flesh, and it has definitely left her in the mood. Humans! Fucking insufferable species. Interesting, but insufferable.
Still she smiles as she raises a hand to lick the come from her fingertips. She has no doubt he'll try harder to entertain her the next time they meet.
